


Timely Tales of Erdrea

by Frost_Glaive



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Dragon Quest XI Act III Spoilers, F/M, Gemma needs screen time, Gen, Got tired of waiting so I wrote it myself, Happily Married, Hero is named Junichi, Or not, Running with theories, bit arrogant I know, i am my own beta, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:53:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25569298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frost_Glaive/pseuds/Frost_Glaive
Summary: In one world, the Luminary defeats the Dark One and spends the rest of his days in marital bliss.In another, his erstwhile companions pick up the pieces of a blighted Erdrea and a woman is left to mourn what is not to be.And, in yet another timeline, Erdwin succeeds in his quest to vanquish the evil that threatens his home.Follows the multiple timelines theory.
Relationships: Emma | Gemma/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI), Erdwin/Serenica (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 13





	1. Well-Earned Peace

“I’m home.”

Gemma turned immediately, almost dropping her ladle. As it was, tomato soup sloshed onto her foot.

“Ow!” she screeched, quite unceremoniously, and hopped away. Chuckling met her ears as she nursed her wounded appendage. She whipped her head up to glare at the offender.

“You can’t laugh when you’re the one who caused this mess by popping up out of nowhere! Look,” she exclaimed while pulling her soiled shoe off, “it’s ruined. I’ll have to ask the cobbler to make a new pair. And your boots will need mending, too.”

“Sorry,” the man apologised. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

Gemma’s eyes softened. “You never make trouble,” she replied. “Welcome home. I missed you, Junie.” The Luminary wrapped his arms around his wife, and the moment was cherished.

“What if – next time – you come with me?”

“Huh?”

Junichi withdrew from their hug so he could look into his wife’s blue eyes. “We’ll go on a world tour. I’ll show you around; I’ve been pretty much everywhere. You’ll love it.”

Her gaze turned downward. “I don’t know…” In truth, it was an overwhelming thought. She’d never dreamed of leaving Cobblestone – after all, everyone she cared about lived in the village. While she had been enchanted by the view from Cobblestone Tor, her forced expedition to Heliodor Castle hadn’t exactly endeared her to the prospect of travelling.

As it had been since they were children, her husband knew how to sway her. “Let’s explore Erdrea. Together.” He squeezed her hands and, not for the first time, she marvelled at how his hands were so much larger than hers. They promised to protect her.

“Okay,” she said. His face lit up, and that was all the reward she needed.

Then his brow creased. “I forgot about the soup.”

“Oh.”

They looked down. Junichi’s boot was steeped in a crimson puddle.

“We’ll have to put in a lot of elbow grease to get this all cleaned up before dinner,” Gemma sighed, getting up. But she didn’t mind in the least, because the love of her life had returned to her. By the smile he threw her, he was of the same opinion.

As long as they were with each other, Gemma would be happy.

* * *

Junichi burst through the door. “She’s giving birth!”

His mother started, almost stabbing the needle into her forefinger. “Goodness, dear, you simply must stop that.”

He cringed briefly before recovering. “But the babies are coming now; we have to go!”

Amber shook her head, putting her needlework down and rising from the table. “I haven’t seen you this excited in a long while. There isn’t much that can get through that stoicism of yours.”

He grinned sheepishly as they exited Dunstan’s home. Junichi led her across the village, greeting a few townsfolk on the way.

“It’s just that, before too long, there’ll be so many little ones running about,” he explained. “I’m a bit worried they’ll take after Gem and me in our younger days.”

Amber chortled. “That’ll be a while yet, dearie. You’re looking quite a ways into the future!”

He fell silent, embarrassed. She slapped him on the back. “You turned out a fine lad. So will they. Now, you’d better get a move on, because I want to meet my grandchildren!”

Junichi flushed and hurried the rest of the way, her laughter chasing him. They arrived in much the same fashion, and he opened the door tentatively.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” said a breathless Gemma. “You missed the first one, but the next is coming soon. Hang on, why are you so red?”

“Nothing,” he blurted. “I brought Mum.”

Amber stepped forward. “I couldn’t miss Sandy giving birth! She’s part of the family.”

Her daughter-in-law beamed. “That’s right! I hope you’ve been thinking of names, darling.”

Junichi froze.

Gemma stopped smiling.

“I. Have. Maybe. A few.”

Hands went to hips. Thankfully, Amber swooped in before a certain Luminary could come to harm. “There’ll be time enough for that later. The pups are coming now!”

Sure enough, the dog’s contractions resumed, and Gemma busied herself with caring for the puppies while the other two watched them come out, enraptured.

“It’s funny how Sandy has barely made a sound,” commented Amber, “but Yggdrasil would be deafened by the racket most human women make.”

Junichi suggested that perhaps it was harder for human babies to fit, making it far more painful. A number of theories were proposed; however, the mystery went unresolved for the time being.

At last, Sandy’s contractions ceased, and all three went to work making the pups comfortable. They were small and quiet, with little hair and closed eyes, content at their mother’s side; it was difficult to imagine that they would grow to match Sandy in size.

“There’s seven,” Gemma said. “Better get to work naming them.”

Her husband pointed to the firstborn. “That one’s En. Second is Deuce, third Trey, Quatro, Còig–”

He was cut off by an exasperated Gemma. “You can’t just number them! She’s family, for Yggdrasil’s sake, remember?”

Amber sighed while her son laughed. “I know,” he told her. “The first one is Cam. Vera, Rina, Nora, Bertie, Martin, and Reggie. They’ll be wonderful doggies.”

His wife’s eyebrows lifted. “They’re pretty good names. Now I’m a wee less concerned about what you’re going to call our kids.”

Junichi turned away to hide his blush. His adoptive mother caught his eye, her stare slightly admonishing. He still acted like a boy with a crush.

“Today, our little family just got a lot bigger!” Gemma cried, oblivious to their exchange.

* * *

_He was sleeping, he thought._

_He didn’t think he was supposed to be. Then again, he didn’t remember what he was meant to be doing. He attempted to gather the fragments of memory together. But the more he tried, the more they slipped out of his grasp. Spheres of light floated away like bubbles in the breeze._

_Except one._

_Wreathed in violaceous smoke, it instead darted towards him in response to his call. He watched it vanish into his torso with some surprise._

**_You are in my power._ **

_Then came the agony._

_Black tendrils crawled where his heart had been._

_Flames wreaked his body, but his bosom was frost._

_Talons in his chest._

_He clawed desperately at the air. It was all for naught. The anguish was intolerable. He couldn’t stop it._

_He was helpless to halt the darkness from taking what was his. He had grown so accustomed to this gift that it had become his very essence. And now, his core had been torn from him. He was rent asunder, and it was impossible to mend._

**_Give yourself to misery._ **

“Junichi!”

He jolted awake. Gasping for precious oxygen, he clutched at his chest. Warm hands encircled him; their presence grounded him.

“Nightmare?” Gemma asked softly, though she knew as much.

“Yeah,” he answered hoarsely. She noticed instantly and rose to fetch water. He waited for her to do so, taking the time to calm his breathing. When she gave him the cup, his hands had steadied enough to hold it without trouble. He expressed his gratitude to her and received a smile in return as she settled next to him.

“Want to talk about it?”

He didn’t. But Gemma was his wife, and Junichi was learning to depend on her with each day that passed. Even if she couldn’t laugh his issues away like when they were youths dashing around with not a care in the world, she would listen. Although she likely would never understand the torture he went through – by Yggdragon, he hoped she never would – she would love and respect him, and share his burden.

“I dreamed of when we went to Yggdrasil for the first time.” He hesitated. He had already told her that he was a time-traveller, of course; he could not possibly keep such a secret from his beloved. However, Junichi had not gone into detail and she had never inquired before. She placed her hand on his thigh to reassure him. So, he continued.

“We climbed Yggdrasil and found the Sword of Light resting in Her heart. But we didn’t know that Jasper was following us. He blasted me just as I was about to claim the blade.”

He felt Gemma tighten, but he couldn’t stop. “We couldn’t lay a finger on him. He had his own orb; he used it to strike us down. Then Mordegon came, and he stole the powers of the Luminary from me. He…”

Junichi swallowed. He shut his eyes and forced himself to keep going. “He plunged his hand into me. It was the worst thing I’ve ever felt.” He began to shake.

Gemma drew him into her embrace, and he finally let the tears flow freely. They stayed in that position for some time as he poured his troubles out for the first time. He hadn’t been able to as yet, what with saving the world several times over. He wept until his cries dwindled into sniffles.

At last, Gemma spoke, her voice quiet. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like. But I’m here for you.”

He glanced up at her, grateful beyond words. “That’s all I’ve ever asked for.”

They drifted off to restful sleep after that.

* * *

Gemma closed the door quietly, ready to hit the hay after a long day of sewing and delivering finished articles of clothing. The sun had retired long ago, so her eyes had already adjusted to the dark. She crept towards the bedroom but a flickering light stopped her.

“Happy birthday.”

She blinked, turning towards the glow. A modest chocolate cake topped with two candles sat on the dining table.

“I forgot that it’s my birthday.”

“Our birthday,” her husband corrected.

“Our birthday,” she repeated. “It’s been so busy today.” He said nothing, but as she made to sit beside him, his eyes encouraged her to share.

“Grandad got me to patch up his coat since winter will be here soon. I finished Connie’s dress yesterday evening, so I went to deliver it to Noah this morning,” she continued, “but I ran into Derk’s wife and we ended up swapping a few titbits. Did you know that Derk bought a doll the other day? He’s been treating it like a real human, chatting to it, dressing it up, even pretending to feed it.”

He laughed at that, and she joined in. “He’s so excited for the baby. Why, just this afternoon he asked me to make a whole closet’s worth of clothing! They don’t even know the gender yet.”

“It never hurts to be prepared,” Junichi contributed, mirth tickling his lips.

“Well, yes, but that’s a bit much, don’t you think?” She leant forward, examining the birthday cake. “That’s enough of that, for now; we still haven’t blown out the candles! The wax is dripping.”

The couple took a moment to wish, and blew out a candle each, plunging the room into darkness. After a moment, Junichi struck another flame to light the lantern so they could eat.

“Did you bake this?” Gemma asked, mouth full. Chocolate had been difficult to obtain in those parts, but Derk’s skill and effort had improved their commerce immensely.

“Mum helped me,” he replied easily. “We didn’t make many sweet things on the road, so I’m not an expert.”

Gemma hummed. “I guess you’d focus on mastering filling, savoury dishes. I reckon I’ll have to cook a lot of desserts to even it out.”

Her hero grinned. “I suppose so.” He finished his slice and she soon followed. She rose, gathering the plates and forks to wash up.

“Thanks for the cake,” she voiced. “And… really, just for being here. For me.”

He didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. She propped the crockery and cutlery up to dry.

“Gemma?”

She twisted to face her love.

“I want you to have this.”

Clasped in his hand was a brilliant green gem, shaped like a droplet, secured at the end of a golden chain. Curious yellow symbols marked its interior.

“It’s beautiful,” Gemma breathed.

“It was my mother’s. Biological mother,” he clarified. “It’s called the Jewel of Dundrasil.”

She scrutinised him. “Then you should keep it. It’s a national treasure on top of being a family heirloom.”

“I won’t wear it,” he responded. “It would look great on you and I think she would want you to have it. Grandpa Rab would agree.”

Tears filled her eyes. She went to wipe them, but Junichi’s finger got there first. He brushed her face tenderly. “I love you,” he murmured. “Everything I do is to show you that.”

Gemma wanted to cry more at that. “I know that, silly. Next time, it’ll have to be me who does something for you.” He kissed her forehead, then went to fasten the necklace.

When they set off on their grand tour, she would have to thank Yggdrasil for gifting her such a man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic on Ao3. It would mean a lot to me if you could take the time to leave a review :)
> 
> I don’t know how this chapter ended up using Gemma’s POV almost the entire time. It was supposed to be third-person omniscient. And why does Junichi keep on startling everyone, honestly.  
> I’m finding it a bit odd writing the Luminary since we never get spoken lines from him. Hopefully, I’ll ease into it. I’m also trying to get back into writing in general. Let me know how I go!  
> Last thing: I'm bad with updating regularly but I will aim for once a fortnight. Please be patient with me...
> 
> Next instalment: Short a Hero. Experiencing a restored world without the Luminary proves to be a difficult task.


	2. Short a Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-time travel: the immediate aftermath for those left behind.

The Timekeeper’s gaze rested on the splintered chunks of the Time’s Sphere. They inclined their head. “It is done…”

“Did we – Did we make the right decision?” queried Serena. Her lip trembled. “Letting him go.”

“It was his to make,” Hendrik replied, struggling with his heavy heart.

“Och, it still doesnae sit quite right with me.” Rab frowned. “Is it truly right to do this? In spite of what we all have been bereaved of, there is much we have gained.”

Sylvando’s fist clenched. “He knew we couldn’t reject the possibility that we could prevent Veronica’s sacrifice and the deaths of countless others.”

Jade sighed deeply, crumbling into Hendrik. “I’ve lost him again.”

This time, there was no hope of return. 

Erik berated himself. If there been a means of accompanying him, he would have done so in a heartbeat. Less than that.

The Timekeeper looked from the shattered Sphere to the forlorn assembly. “There is nothing here for you now…”

Everyone flinched at that. “We know that,” Erik stated bitterly.

If he had just put his foot down, maybe Junichi would still be with them. He quashed that thought. Mister Strong And Silent Type was a stubborn soul. He would not have budged from his decision.

That was what Erik kept telling himself, but something – was it regret? – stopped him from moving on. He tried to remind himself that the ache would fade with time. However, he doubted that it would ever vanish.

They made their way to the exit, one by one. Yet Serena paused. She turned back to the ethereal Timekeeper, who had gone back to staring at what remained of the Sphere.

“There’s something familiar about you,” she mumbled. “I can’t put my finger on it.”

Outside, the sunlight caressed their faces; all else was still. Sylvando looked about, recalling Junichi’s comment regarding hordes of little creatures surrounding the tower, strangely visible to only the Luminary. They must be the Spirits of Lost Time, he thought, walking sombrely towards the whale way station. He tried to imagine them as Junie had described: translucent blue beings ambling up the tower, black orbs observing them from atop boughs in trees that were verdant only moments ago. Now they seemed ashen.

“This is no good,” he muttered and shook himself. He couldn’t bring up his characteristic cheer. Perhaps it was acceptable to let the others be, for now. Sylvando could lighten them up when the wounds had begun to heal.

Cetacea awaited them, hovering above the white pillars. The gold patterning her back gleamed, reminiscent of the mark of the Luminary. She whined as they approached, sensing the absence of the hero. Her keening touched Serena’s heart. They shared their pain as two halves of souls that yearned to be complete, knowing such a thing could nevermore be accomplished. They climbed aboard in silence, each of them mourning a grandson, a brother, a friend.

“Do you think he made it?” asked Serena.

“Yes,” declared Erik. “He had to.”

Jade nodded, unable to forgive herself if he was trapped in time. The ground fell away beneath the flying whale’s wings, revealing the splendour of the world. Her silvery skin shone in the day. To the west, Sniflheim’s snowy peaks broke the clouds, and just to the south Yggdrasil’s lustre suffused the First Forest. Cetacea’s magic assured their safety even as she barrel-rolled across the skies.

“Where should we go first, darlings?” Sylvando pondered.

Erik replied instantaneously. “To Cobblestone. The people there deserve to know what happened.”

“Yes…” Hendrik mused. “Especially his mother and – childhood friend.”

The others glanced at him, noting his slip-up. Jade’s countenance darkened and she glared at her feet.

Rab heaved a sigh. “Off we go, then. Cetacea, if ye would.”

The fabled being sang in response, her wings scooping the crisp air to turn towards the aforementioned village. The company remained relatively unaffected by the rapid movement thanks to Cetacea’s barrier slowing particles down and trapping oxygen inside. Jade inhaled deeply, savouring the feeling of the ensuing zephyr on her face. It would be her last time spent airborne since she planned to remain with her father for the time being. She speculated idly where the gigantic mammal had been all these years, waiting for the Luminary to be reincarnated so they could defeat the Dark One once for all. Now that her task was complete, Jade wondered where she would go. Perhaps she would hibernate in anticipation for the next Luminary if the darkness arose once more. She was curious as to where such a mountainous animal had taken shelter, undetected for aeons.

Rab interrupted her thoughts. “What will ye do, lassie?”

She was silent for a time. “I want to spend some time with Father, so I suppose I’ll stay awhile in Cobblestone. Then… I might travel, helping the towns that need it, before returning to Heliodor.” She regarded the man she saw as her grandfather. “You said you wanted to rebuild Dundrasil, did you not?”

“I did, indeed,” he replied, brow furrowed. “It’ll be difficult work, but I dinnae think Eleanor and Irwin would let that stop them.”

She smiled softly at the mention of Lady Eleanor. “I’ll be happy to lend a hand when I drop by.”

“Same here,” chimed in Erik. “Mia and I can bring in the fruits of our treasure hunts.”

Serena shot him a mildly disapproving look.

“I, too,” pledged Hendrik. Jade glanced at him in surprise, conjecturing that he would remain with her father. He met her gaze steadily.

“I am certain that King Carnelian would rather I accompany you; he would be convinced of your wellbeing.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “True enough.”

The exchange dwindled; it was difficult to keep up their usual conversations in the face of what had just occurred. Rab returned to reflection. He had wanted to re-establish his kingdom with the aid of his grandson, hoping such an undertaking would provide them some quality time. It would not have made up for all those years they had spent apart, but it should have helped.

Well, there was no chance of that now.

He suppressed another sigh. This setback would not halt him; as he had told the others, he wanted to carry on the legacy of Dundrasil. Not only for his sake but for his beloved daughter, his son-in-law; for everyone who had toiled in the name of their realm. Hence, he would not abandon his ambition.

“Check it out,” Erik called, jolting Rab. “There it is.”

The mountain loomed before them, its steep cliffs promising an arduous hike. Cetacea made to descend and pinpricks of people began to grow, their faces upturned. They were still too high to make out their features, but Rab imagined the disbelief clouding their expressions.

Each of the individuals on the whale’s back steeled themselves to break the news to Junichi’s loved ones. It was a grim position to be in, to be sure.

* * *

It was a beautiful day to go for a walk, Gemma thought as she stepped outside, waving goodbye to her grandfather. The sun was brighter than it had been for a long while. She grinned as warmth splashing against her pale face. She had been stuck indoors all morning, putting the finishing touches on a tunic for Junichi. She couldn’t wait to see his face when she presented it to him upon his return. A lively bark preceded the arrival of her dog and the girl turned to greet Sandy with a hearty belly rub.

“Wouldn’t it be such a perfect day to climb the Tor!” she marvelled when she was done petting the ecstatic dog. Her face fell a little. It would not feel right to look upon that view without Junie beside her.

“Ah, well,” she said to herself, “he’ll be home soon enough, and then…”

Her cheeks burned; she bowed her head slightly and hurried on. Sandy threw what could have been a quizzical expression at her. “Oh, shush, you,” Gemma admonished without heat.

They strolled along to the music of children’s laughter. She smiled, secure in the knowledge that the king of Heliodor himself was dedicated to rebuilding Cobblestone. There was much to do, but her fellow villagers were enthusiastic and the soldiers cooperative. She and Sandy made their way across the settlement, giving the construction sites a wide berth for their safety. One of the workers above her called a good afternoon and she lifted a hand to shade her eyes as she responded in kind before continuing on.

They had not walked much further when a huge shadow eclipsed the pair. She looked up, excitement growing as she made out the shape of a whale.

“C’mon, Sandy!” she hollered, quickening her pace to meet the riders as soon they dismounted. The dog barked and took off towards the Tor, tail wagging merrily. She giggled with the little oxygen she had to spare from the unexpected sprint. The wind whipped her blonde strands about; her kerchief prevented them from obscuring her face.

They passed a number of villagers, all agape at the near-impossible sight. She couldn’t blame them; she would have stopped to bask in the unlikely view had she not been so eager to see her special someone. A few managed to tear their eyes from the flying whale to yell, “Good luck!” after her, understanding her rush and cheering her on.

At last, she crested the hill, greeted with the sight of the stunning animal lowering herself just before the great stone tablet. A smile graced her lips. Gemma continued on as she watched the party disembark.

Her footsteps began to slow as she drew near, their voices drifting to her ears.

“Thank you for your service, Cetacea. You have aided us greatly.” Sir Hendrik lay his arm diagonally across his chest, fisted his hand, and bowed to the resplendent mount. The others noticed her arrival and turned towards her. She scanned the unfamiliar faces, heart sinking.

“Junichi?” was all she could utter.

Their expressions shuttered. Her heart almost stopped. Tears pricked her eyes.

“Where is he?” she demanded.

Sir Hendrik approached her. “Milady.”

Gemma fixated on him desperately. His jaw tightened and he looked to the ground in an uncharacteristic gesture. “We were afforded an… opportunity to correct all that had gone amiss with Yggdrasil’s fall.”

Her gaze sharpened, about to insist on an immediate account. Just then, the woman with a bob of blonde hair stepped forward. “You must be Gemma. Am I right in assuming this?” Gemma could see that the woman was trying to relax but was failing.

She nodded stiffly. The woman closed her eyes for a moment, as though she was bracing herself. When she opened them again, she said, “My name is Serena. Might I suggest that we continue our conversation in private?”

Gemma was shamefaced. In her dissatisfaction, she had neglected to offer her guests the treatment they surely deserved. “Yes… yes, of course,” she spoke. “Sorry about that. Please follow me – we can talk at my house. I’ll get Junie’s mum along the way, too.”

She paused. “Sir Hendrik, wouldn’t you want to see King Carnelian first?”

His forehead wrinkled. “Indeed, I ought to do so.” He glanced at the rest of his companions, clearly torn over remaining with them or reporting to the monarch. The blue-haired man shrugged slightly while the brunet gave a thumbs up. The others smiled at him, expressing their consent. Sir Hendrik dipped his head, having made up his mind.

“I will go to my king first,” he announced. “Once I have related my testimony, I shall rejoin you.”

“Okay,” she agreed, beginning to walk back to the village proper. They followed behind.

They couldn’t see the despair that wracked her.

* * *

“He’s gone,” she breathed.

It was evening now. The sun had set some time ago, though it had gone unnoticed as she had listened intently to the group’s incredible tale. Time travel and the like. It was difficult to believe, yet she had to; else she would have to admit that he was dead.

It was functionally the same, in any case.

The tunic she had made for him would go unused.

Gemma sat on the cooling grass. She gripped a few blades in her fist, tempted to pull them out as she had as a child when she was irate. She sighed suddenly, releasing them and placing her head in her hands.

The others were sojourning at the inn for the night; in the morning they would leave with Cetacea for their homes and loved ones, with the exception of Princess Jade and Sir Hendrik. She glared into her hands, jealous for what they yet had and she lacked.

Yet she knew that notion was unfair. Serena was bereft of her sister. Rab – or Lord Rab, should she call him – had lost his nation and his daughter and son-in-law, only to lose the little family he had left. Countless others would never return in this world but could be saved through travelling back in time. But the seed of resentment remained. She burned with remorse.

The sound of footsteps grew louder before stopping altogether. She ignored whoever was there.

“Gemma,” Princess Jade started. She drew her brows together. “Before he left, he asked us to relay a message. To you.”

The girl looked up at that, her face already stained.

“He wanted you to know that he’s sorry. For leaving you behind. But he knows you’re a woman now, so you-”

“That’s not enough,” she said sharply. “If he’s sorry for going without me, he shouldn’t have done it in the first place. If he knows I’m a woman, he should have stayed with me. If he’s a man, he should have-”

She broke down again. The end of her sentence went unspoken, but Princess Jade comprehended her meaning.

He should have raised a family with her.

Gemma sobbed afresh, heartbroken and guilt-ridden. Junichi was indeed a man; she understood that very well. The first time, he had left to learn of his destiny. In his wake of Cobblestone’s destruction, not knowing that they had survived, he went to fulfil his calling despite his sorrow. He kept striving for peace. He could undo the horrors unleashed by Mordegon if only he departed from this time. Junie would maybe wed a different version of herself. And yet.

Her heart wished that he would be a little selfish. Just for this version of her. The one that had witnessed the fall of Yggdrasil and endured the subsequent ordeals, all for the sake of glimpsing his face once more.

“For what it’s worth, I must extend my apologies, as well,” Princess Jade murmured. “He was as a brother to me.”

She turned on her heel and walked slowly to her lodgings, leaving Gemma to lament. She gazed up at myriad constellations she had forgotten the name of, searching for the red glow of a star that hung in the sky no longer.

There was a question she could not verbalise for fear she would not receive an answer.

_‘How do I live without you by my side?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Churned out half of this chapter desperately in order to meet my self-imposed fortnightly deadline. Or, at least, get an update in before exams hit and throw out everything unrelated to uni.  
> Also, yeah, I got a bit carried away with Cetacea’s magic. The scientist in me will absolutely not accept letting it fly without some elaboration. On the other hand, I attempted to convey Rab’s accent but, as you can see, it didn’t go very well.  
> I am torn by the events of act III. Yes, I love happy endings, and having Veronica back warms my heart. But they lack the development of the party members of act II. I won’t explain myself because there has already been much discussion regarding this topic.  
> This is one of the reasons I wanted to write this fic: decisions are not to be made lightly. Nevertheless, I do not want to dwell too much on this because people should not be tied down by their regrets. Therefore, later chapters will hopefully be of relatively lighter content, even as we return to this timeline.  
> Next instalment: Reunion. Knowing why everything went wrong does not seem to make things easier, as Serenica discovers.


	3. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knowing why everything went wrong does not seem to make things easier, as Serenica discovers.

Serenica was still reeling.

Here she was, standing before the love of her life. Long ago, at the close of their adventure, he had left her, and she had not even been present for his final moments. Her refusal to accept such an outcome had led her on a new journey, one saturated with desperation and despondency. A hint of hope had winked at her in the form of the Time’s Sphere, only to be snuffed out upon realising that it was impossible for her to break the crystallisation of time. Her last comfort had been knowing that she would join him in the afterlife. But, instead, she had drifted.

Then, light had engulfed her, restoring Serenica to her senses. She had come to in front of a man whose groomed features she had not recognised, yet his warmth insisted familiarity. It was in that instant that she had comprehended it: this was Erdwin’s reincarnation. The golden sheen of his birthmark confirmed his identity.

He and his party had briefed her of her fate and that of her companions. She remembered gripping her skirt tightly with the urge to tear Morcant a new one. She remembered the amazement she had felt when Junichi had offered her the Super Sword of Light, lending her his power. Her hope restored and heart full, she had made ready to fulfil her wish.

It was nothing short of a miracle.

“Erdwin,” she breathed.

“Serenica,” he said, grasping her hands as his shoulders slumped in relief. “We did search far and wide for thee.”

She smiled. “It gladdens mine own heart to findst thee well.”

His brows drew together in confusion. “What dost thou mean?”

Rather than explaining herself, she leant forward to lay her head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart reverberated through her being.

Serenica could save him. She could save Morcant.

She would be forever grateful to Junichi for this chance. She would not allow Erdrea to forget what he had done.

For their sake and for the world, she would set matters right.

“Serenica?” Erdwin called again. His arm moved to hold her close. “Forsooth, 'tis unusual that thou begin this embrace.”

“I shalt not loseth thee anew,” she whispered fiercely.

She wanted nothing more than to stay in his warm arms for the rest of her life, but there was much to be done. Serenica permitted herself a moment longer to savour his gentle touch before pulling away, much to her lover’s consternation. He took her hand instead and they strolled along the path to return to the rest of their party. Though somewhat distracted by the comfort of her hand in his, the ensuing silence allowed her to gather her thoughts.

She would have to insist that they train far harder than before so that she and Drustan could remain with them as the final blow was dealt to Calasmos. Morcant’s desire for power had to be curbed; his friendship with Erdwin ought to be unbreakable. Perhaps she could delve into the texts of old in order to research methods of shielding one’s mind against exterior forces. Morcant could be recruited to aid in that aspect.

It would be a long road yet, but she vowed that they would succeed.

* * *

“Above!”

Serenica jumped back without glancing at the incoming tentacle, trusting that Morcant’s word would lead her truly. The man dodged another tentacle nimbly and boiled it with a thunderous incantation. She cast a spell to rejuvenate Drustan as he held back yet another barrage of shadowy missiles. He did not spare her a nod in thanks, but she needed it not, and someone may well have shouted at him to pay attention had he done so. She turned towards Erdwin, energising his body to hack away at Calasmos. The antithesis of creation retaliated with a blast of darkness, flinging the sage onto her back. Flaring pain in her upper left shoulder accompanied a loud crack. She winced and yelped subconsciously before chanting a hasty heal. Her shoulder blade had likely broken, but there was no time to tend to it properly.

“We must endure!” bellowed Drustan, voice robust despite the long minutes spent wearing their enemy down. Without an enchantment, he gave strength to his friends; they redoubled their efforts.

It was not much longer now. The Stygian aura that had surrounded him had been blown away some time ago when Erdwin had brandished the Super Sword of Light. The Dark One was weakening. Darkness issued from fissures in his green, crab-like armour. His mask had broken a minute or two beforehand, revealing features twisted with hatred for existence. He attacked, desperate to end life whilst they fought to protect it. Serenica summoned a glowing shield and the blackness passed harmlessly to each side of them.

A cry sounded from the rear of their group. She pivoted, a gasp escaping her lips. Miasma encased their mage, hiding him from sight.

“Nay,” she entreated, her pupils wide. “Morcant! Verily, thou art a child of light! Allowest not thy lust for power to bespell thee!”

She pleaded with the unseen man, hoping that her words reached him, that all their preparation amounted to something. That Morcant would fend off Calasmos’ cowardly assault. That Erdwin would live and that she would not have to seek out the Temple of Lost Time once again. That the course of destiny would be changed.

The black-and-indigo cloud whirled ferociously to form a mini-tornado. Her eyes squeezed shut against the roaring gale and arms were raised in a futile attempt to deflect the mist – she could feel frostbite and heatstroke devouring her skin. She would have crumpled had it not been for Erdwin’s timely intervention, summoning light to banish the darkness.

In those moments of extraordinary radiance, Serenica stretched her hand out, desiring only the touch of her fellow mage to assure her of his salvation.

The light began to fade in time and her hope with it. She blinked rapidly to clear the sunspots and her blurred vision. But just as she went to withdraw her hand, someone seized it and wrung it with all the strength of a man.

“Fearest not, dear sage, for the forces of evil prevailed not upon mine own soul,” Morcant declared, beaming so widely she was treated to a singular view of his pink gums. “Our preparations were indispensable, I assure thee; else I should be lost.”

Such was the intensity of her relief that she would have sunken to the ground were it not for Morcant’s firm grip. She struggled with her spiralling thoughts. “I…”

“Serenica. Thou hast no need of words. I knowest thy mind.” His eyes crinkled, irises blue as a peaceful sky. “Yet, I enjoin thy remembrance: the final blow hath not hitherto been delivered.”

She exhaled slowly, banishing all worries of wicked enchantments and bleak futures. A nod was all the encouragement Morcant needed to release her. Her gaze assimilated the state of affairs in an instant. Drustan was busying Calasmos’ main body while Erdwin was occupied with his regenerating appendages. They were translucent and moved lethargically – likely still recuperating from the previous bout.

“Very well,” she said. “Come, let us end this villain.”

* * *

Burnt orange filtered through the blinds, bathing the room in the glow of the dying sun. The scent of game rubbed with butter and garnished with piquant herbs wafted throughout the cosy dwelling. Its fireplace crackled contentedly, providing sufficient light for the house’s occupants. The quiet thump of wooden spoons on crockery was drowned out by the hum of conversation, for the most part.

“’Tis but a trivial matter, yet ought to be conveyed posthaste,” Drustan insisted as he twirled his eating knife. “Surely thou wouldst pass through Nhou Wat on thy travels?”

Morcant threw his hands up and somehow managed a shrug in that position, much to Serenica’s perplexity. “Indeed! But long and arduous be the path to Angri-La; thou canst not presume thy goods undamaged. Further, cease thy show of dexterity. It sways me not.”

“I implore thee to findest another poor soul willing enough to heave thine armour across Erdrea,” Erdwin interjected, still laughing. “The beast thou art – why, it ought to weigh some hundred kilograms! Morcant is far too spindly to perform such a task, e’en with sorcery. Hire a caravan, forthwith!”

“I thankest thee for thy succour,” grumbled Morcant.

Drustan guffawed. “Thou raisest a fine point! I accede to thy request.”

“And I thankest _thee_ for thy mercy, O esteeméd Sir Drustan!”

The knight leant against the back of his seat and belched without reserve. Morcant flinched and muttered aught of unseemly and ungracious oafs. Serenica, meanwhile, hid her blush with an improper giggle.

“Thy display of satisfaction with our supper dost flatter mine wife!” Erdwin opined. She slapped his arm and he grinned as he continued, “You must make merry in my home whenever business alloweth.”

Serenica groaned quietly, knowing that the two visitors would take that to heart and come whenever they were able. As they were both familiar with the Zoom spell, she was certain that she and her husband would entertain them weekly, if not more frequently.

She got to her feet, gathering everyone’s dishes. “I daresay Drustan might grow to resemble a jargon should he take thee up on that, my dear.”

Drustan’s eyebrows shot up with the unexpected barb even as he chuckled. “Thy wife hath kept her tongue sharp, my friend!”

“In truth, the lady hath whet it on me,” her husband sighed.

They all shared a laugh as she took care of the tableware and bade the men goodnight. They would drink through the evening and be helpless come morning, no doubt. As for her, she had an oath to carry out. She lit a candle of beeswax and padded to their study, where rolls of parchment, a quill, and an inkwell sat waiting.

Such articles were expensive, reserved only for the most well-to-do. Fortunately for her, as one who had eliminated the darkness on top of being married to the Luminary, Serenica was afforded many luxuries. Notwithstanding their newfound fame, she and Erdwin wished only to live simply. For the task at hand, however, she would employ whatever means necessary to keep her promise that Erdrea would know the deeds of the hero yet to come. Following that, she was determined to preserve the story of her husband’s adventure. Many candles would be burnt through sleepless nights.

Thus, the legend of the first Erdrick and the tale of the first Luminary were passed on through the ages.

* * *

**Omake**

Serenica had thought she could fix everything that had gone awry.

She was wrong.

She should have known it would not work. Not for her. She who possessed but an echo of the Luminary’s potential, had merely borrowed the sword only he could wield truly.

Never again would she lay eyes her dearest. Never again would she hear his voice, bask in his gaze, in his laughter.

Golden bubbles of time floated past – the only sources of illumination in the abyss. She attempted to grasp one, but all it gave her was the vision of her despair. She tried again, reaching for one which emitted tenderness, but it eluded her. If any brushed past her, they bore only misery.

She shut her eyes. Perhaps if she thought only of Erdwin, the spacetime continuum would lead to her to him. Her heart called up every memory of him: his tell-tale grunts during Drustan’s training, his animated features as he regaled them with embarrassing stories of Morcant, the tilt of his head when he listened to her, his scarlet face as they exchanged bracelets…

Each image served only to immerse her more deeply in the darkness. She was drowning, entrenched in her anguish. She could no longer breathe; desolation suffocated her being. Eternal shadow and utmost wretchedness would be her portion.

Tears pooled beneath her lids.

_Farewell, my love._

Denied even the consolation of reunion in the next world, Serenica wandered forevermore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Exams and making song covers. And Xenoblade Chronicles: Definitive Edition. Then I came back to this chapter and saw all my stuff about changing destiny… Now I’m tempted to stick a ‘seize our destiny’ somewhere…
> 
> The omake is NOT part of this story. I thought I should make that very clear. It springs from the Timekeeper’s declaration that one could be lost in time, and I thought Serenica would have a greater chance since she’s not the true Luminary.
> 
> I am certain that I have made a plethora of errors; I mightn’t come back to this scenario.
> 
> I add that a couple of my romantic stimuli are ‘What It Means To Be Living’ and ‘In This Cage’ by The_Ocean_Deep. They comprise a series of FFVII fanfics that I would highly recommend. The rest stems from my own relationship or from what I have seen in others; I have learnt much and continue to.
> 
> Next instalment: Adventure Awaits. Gemma sings for adventure in the great wide somewhere and gets it.


	4. Learning to Live Without You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Putting together a jigsaw puzzle with two pieces missing.

Serena woke stretching a hand to someone who was not there. It took her a moment to gather herself from the remnants of her dream. She fell back against the pillow, withdrawing her arm to lay it across her eyes. A tear slid down her cheek.

Visions of her sister’s sacrifice flashed vividly before her. Minutiae burned themselves into her retinas: her sister’s determination in the face of bitter defeat, her final smile as she placed her faith in those who had failed. Her selflessness in granting life to the twin who had always walked in her shadow.

She rose and readied herself for another week in service to the people of Arboria. Veronica used to handle such duties, so Serena had been unaccustomed to them and had struggled initially. Now she dispatched them with swiftness and efficiency she would have envied in her younger days.

Yet she found herself leaving thoughts half-finished, expecting them to be completed. Found herself still seeking someone else’s opinion before her own. Still waiting for someone else to make the decisions, forgetting she had to make her own now. Reaching for the warmth of a frame that had always been beside her – the familiar comfort of following someone she trusted with every fibre of her being. It was more difficult to function than she had ever imagined, and that first year without her had almost torn her apart.

Then, the ends of her hair tickled her neck in the spring breeze, and the birds regaling their town invited her to celebrate life in memory of her sister.

“Serena, dear? Breakfast is ready.”

“Coming!” she called with a hard-earned smile. A genuine one that had taken another year to return.

She would never shake off the pain of losing half of herself. But her sister was always watching. That young green leaf, apoptosed from Yggdrasil’s immense branches far too early, had drifted to her and stayed beside her.

It had wounded her further when Junichi had travelled back in time. Another comrade never to be seen again. She knew why, of course – likely more than anyone else – and a chance for a single timeline to contain an elder twin with greying hairs and prominent crow’s feet was too good to pass up. Nonetheless, the release of her charge and the sudden farewell had reminded her strongly of how the shortened mage had left. Serena supposed the depth of her grief matched that of the sweet blonde girl in Cobblestone, who had awaited the return of her loved one with eagerness, only to discover that he was gone with nary a goodbye.

She had thought that Veronica wanted her to stand by herself, not requiring anyone else. But she had misunderstood: it was reliance on friends and family that had made her strong. To stand on her own two feet but to rejoice in her need to lean on everyone, to hold their hands. She realised that now.

Her sister was always watching, proud that Serena was standing. Proud that she could dance with real pleasure.

* * *

It was a lovely day, crisp and bright. Flat clouds stretched across the sky, and light shimmered as it passed through to reach Erdrea’s surface. The chatter of contented townsfolk bounced off stone walls. Children laughed as they roughhoused on the streets, shouting offhand apologies after a customer as one tripped over a box of produce in the bustling market.

Rab smiled at the scene from his window. He uncurled himself from the couch with difficulty, its cushioned velvet one of many gifts from King Carnelian. He had intended to have it traded off to help fund the rebuilding efforts, but Jade had insisted that he keep it for Rab’s weakening back. The old man was touched at their generosity – almost every settlement on earth had laboured to get back on their feet after Mordegon’s defeat. Even now, the poorer towns had not yet recovered; but he heard stories of well-off places such as Gallopolis offering their aid and certain individuals from Sylvando’s retinue giving joy and hope.

It had been slightly over five years since Junichi had left. Rab was still in amazement that Dundrasil had been almost completely reconstructed in so little time and with such sturdy foundations. His people had flocked back in response to spreading rumours of its repopulation, courtesy of Erik’s travels.

However, there remained the issue of inheritance.

There weren’t many with the appropriate lineage who could assume the throne. His grandson would have been first in line; other potential candidates were difficult to track down. Rab’s eldest brother had passed away young, leaving no heirs; the middle brother had had two children but his family had shipwrecked off the coast of Sniflheim approximately two decades past. His father had been an only child, so there were none with royal blood as far as Rab could trace.

There were alternatives, of course, like leaving the nation’s affairs to his council. It had already been established before the city’s fall but was still missing some seats. These members could be elected from the people. But Drasilians were fond of their monarchy and would not react well to its dissolution.

He glanced at the tapestry opposite him, its threaded gold brilliant under the sunlight streaming in through the glass. It was frayed and the finely worked metal holding it up was tarnished from years of neglect, yet its depiction of a delighted couple holding a babe dressed in purple was unmistakeable.

The king sometimes dreamed of the old days. Nights by the campfire, watching sweat rolling down Junichi’s face while he hammered away at a weapon, the comfortable sound of a blade against a whetstone as he listened intently to some tale of his parents. He wondered how he was doing. If he had succeeded. Rab had to believe he had, that it was worth letting him go.

There were yet problems in Dundrasil, but he would toil to resolve them. They all would. And he prayed that, whatever his grandson was doing, wherever or whenever he was, he was happy.

* * *

“So hot…”

They had donned pale robes to shield themselves from the desert sun but it wasn’t doing Mia much good. “Erdrea’s awesome and all, but this is insane!”

Erik grinned down at his little sister. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t wanna get used to it!” she complained. She sighed sharply. A djinn in a golden lamp would be very convenient to get rid of the noonday sultriness.

“Don’t talk,” he chided her. “We’ll expend too much energy and moisture.”

The pair plodded across the wilderness. Heat shimmered over the sands, so dry it was difficult to breathe. Mia’s waterskin was warm against her waist; she squinted at it for a second, debating whether to take a swig. She decided against it, wanting to save it for later. They weren’t sure when exactly they would encounter a village. Or an oasis, but her good-for-nothing elder brother had said that towns were usually established around those. Hm. Guess he was useful for something, after all.

The desert was ridiculous. First, she was being roasted alive, especially when the sun was near its zenith. Then, once it would set in a few hours, the heat would bleed off the sand with nothing to absorb into, and they would be shivering all through the night. Rinse, repeat.

It had taken the two the better part of two years to travel around most of the world. Erik had told her that his party had done one run in less than a year due to the urgency of their mission. They hadn’t really gotten the chance to laze about and explore every nook and cranny. So, this time, they were taking it easy and spending a few weeks in each location, as long as either of them wanted. Be patient! She was getting to the point of her internal monologuing, sheesh. It was a shame that he wouldn’t let her relieve people of excess valuables, but at least he had taught her to pan gold, which was an acceptable hobby if a little slow and often yielded flakes the size of a larger grain of sand.

Her brother had changed a fair bit in the time they had been separated. He thought they had ample coinage and bragged that he’d learned a thing or two from his former companions, enough to earn legally. It was weird. She didn’t know yet if it was _bad_ , but she would probably decide eventually. Anyway.

Puerto Valor was pretty cool, discounting the fact that Erik wouldn’t let her have fun in the casino. Hunting for pearls in Lonalulu made for some neat treasure. Maybe she’d attend that swanky academy place one day (though the girls there seemed way too snobbish for her liking). But Gallopolis. Oh, the sweltering desert expanses, natural enemy to her Sniflheim blood.

If they didn’t melt on the way to Gallopolis, Mia would kill her brother with her own hands.

“What?! After all my effort in stringing you along for the ride?”

Darn it. She’d said that aloud.

* * *

The sun was about three-quarters of the way through its daily journey. He would need to leave soon in order to be ready on time. But he could engage in some light sparring in the meantime.

“Papi!”

The older man glanced over his shoulder; his expression lit up immediately. “Finally come to join us on a good old-fashioned battleground? I’ve been waiting.”

“It’s been a while,” Sylvando said, stretching. “I don’t want my skills to get rusty, even if there aren’t any foreseeable threats to fend off.”

“Good man.” His father clapped him heartily on his slender shoulder once, then paused. “Did you manage to see your friend off?”

He beamed. “I did! He and his baby sister are quite the troublesome pair. You know, despite all his prowess with dirks and the like, he functions admirably with a basket-hilted sword. Very familiar with seaxes, too, naturally.”

“Given his Sniflheim heritage, I’d imagine so,” came the response.

“I think he could stand a little to learn from you, Papi!” Sylvando declared. “Then again, almost everyone does. But he’s not really interested in that now, I suppose. He wants to go treasure hunting with Mia.”

What about himself? What did he want?

After Junichi had gone, he hadn’t returned to Puerto Valor immediately. He had stopped at various cities, helping to rebuild and keep people’s spirits up. He had informed his friends at Gallopolis circus that he would be taking indefinite leave – but he had fully intended to return once everything was settled.

He still did, yet something was keeping him there. Sylvando wasn’t sure what. Maybe he desired to stay close to his father, not knowing the amount of time they had left together. Wishing to take comfort in that which he had not lost, rather than who he had. It was clear, however, that he could not remain forever – the wind called to him and would not relent until he was old and grey, or perhaps never.

Approaching the racks on the side, he perused the selection of rapiers. He plucked a blade, its steel surface gleaming, and twirled it a couple of times to test its balance. He nodded to himself in satisfaction and went to join the other man in the centre of the ring. The uniform bricks were warm under his feet.

“That stance of yours is weak,” he barked.

He smirked in reply and shifted accordingly, sword held parallel to the floor the entire time. Some of the knights-in-training gathered round to watch the renowned men, the former of whom had trained the great Sir Hendrik, who had saved Erdrea alongside the Luminary and Don Rodrigo’s son. Talent was undoubtedly genetic.

The sun was low in the sky but not enough to throw haloes of red and orange through purpled clouds when at last they finished. Sylvando wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead with a pleased exhalation. His tunic was damp; he’d had a good workout. He would need to change out of it, however, before he left. It wouldn’t do to perform with a reeking body.

“Mind you look after that rapier before you put it away,” the retired knight warned. The squires began to disperse, chattering amongst themselves in awe.

“Of course, Papi! What kind of boorish oaf do you take me for?”

“Hmph.”

“Are you coming to the show tonight?”

“Hmph.”

“Wonderful! Oh, I was thinking we could have a guest appearance! Since most of the Knights of Smile left to go to other towns, we’ve been lacking a little joy in Puerto Valor.” He polished the cold steel happily.

His father caught the sly grin. “Absolutely not.”

He leapt over and grasped a hand in mock desperation. “The residents would be so delighted, I’m sure!”

“No!”

Needless to say, Don Rodrigo entertained the citizens very well that evening. He received three encores.

* * *

Sunsets were nicer when there was someone beside you to enjoy it with, Jade thought. Actually, she amended, they weren’t that great, to begin with. It was the simple act of sharing time with someone you cared about which made it special.

She turned away to move back into her room, heeled boots clicking on the concrete and muffled on the plush carpet. Jade sank onto her bed and fingered her hair. It was styled up in a braided bun, a few loose strands framing her almond-shaped eyes. Her petticoated skirt tangled her legs and the tight lace about her bodice was still unfamiliar after all these years. She glanced at herself in the mirror: an unrecognisable royal.

She didn’t know if she could call herself unhappy. She had been reunited with her father and had returned to her beloved kingdom; Mordegon, the scourge of Erdrea, had been felled and Yggdrasil had risen to her rightful place in the northern sky. Her friends had scattered to the winds to do what they desired with their lives, and so had she. And she still had Hendrik with her – as uptight as he was, he was very dependable.

But Jade had never wished for luxurious dresses, costly kohl, or for more shoes than she knew what to do with, or for living quarters too vast for one. When she was young, she had been accustomed to such opulence; but no longer. However, that was the responsibility given with blood, was it not? Ordained from birth.

Perhaps she was still sour. Perhaps she had not yet adjusted to living life like this. Half a decade did not compare to almost sixteen years on the road. But she was certain that, someday, she would. She would step up to be the ruler her people needed.

A firm knock sounded on the door. “Princess?”

She looked up at the familiar voice. “What is it?” Maybe he had come to remind her of dinner.

The mahogany door opened slowly. Hendrik stood beyond it, opting to linger outside. It was inappropriate for a man to be in her presence without company. She sniggered quietly at his insistence on decorum.

“You requested that I inform you when the package arrived.”

Jade threw herself off the bed and jumped forward, ignoring his wince of disapproval. “Let’s go!” she exclaimed and rushed down the corridor towards the lobby. Her knight heaved a sigh as he took off after the enthusiastic woman.

The king was already there, hands clasped behind his back. He turned upon her arrival, welcoming her with a bright smile. “I see Sir Hendrik is wholly unable to restrain our unruly princess!”

She beamed back. “You are quite right, Father! Has it been put up yet?” Her pace slowed.

He gestured behind him. “See for yourself,” he encouraged.

Jade walked around him, setting her sights on a sizeable painting. Her hand reached out, stopping just before she touched it – she didn’t want to ruin the colouring. Yellow spiralled under her thumb, connecting to smooth waves of teal. Green and blue side by side, red so bright she would almost call it garish interspersed with serene white… The purple of a coat she’d never see again and the flashing gold on the back of his hand.

“The likeness is remarkable, don’t you think?” her father commented. She nodded silently. They couldn’t be here, with her, with everyone… but they would remember them. They would be with her in every decision she made.

* * *

She wondered if he was okay.

Wherever he was, whenever he was, she prayed to Yggdrasil that he was happy. Because that was all she could do.

Sandy frolicked in the long grass, yipping and chasing after her tail. Several children ran after the dog, stroking her soft fur and throwing makeshift balls for her to fetch. She was less excitable these days, though; she was pushing some fifteen years, nearing the end of her lifespan. Soon, Gemma would be left the sole member of their informal trio.

Sometimes Erik came to Cobblestone, pretty and peculiar trinkets tucked away in his knapsack, tales in his pocket. They swapped stories on every occasion, but Erik gave them away more often than not – he had far more to tell. He usually dragged Mia along; the dear girl protested quite loudly and berated her brother, but Gemma could tell she liked visiting. The blue-haired girl gave her many sidelong looks, and she knew why.

Maybe one day. But not now.

Gemma was twenty-two now, long past her village’s optimal age to be wed. She should have tied the knot four or five years ago – everyone in Cobblestone knew it should have been to Junie and celebrated it. Then the secret of his birth had been revealed; he’d left and people had called him the Darkspawn and she’d screamed _that’s a lie_ over and over again and her heart had ached at his absence and been repulsed by their deceit.

She thought of Junie regularly. Less frequently than before but too much to say that she was over him. Yet… she was learning. Learning how to survive in a world without him in it. How to live in a time darkened without his sure light, without his blue gaze, without his tender smile.

Far off was the day when thoughts of him would bring only slight sorrow. (She was certain that it _would_ arrive.)

She was too old now for the boys in their simple town. Memories of Junie had prevented them from proposing earlier, an unprecedented delicacy on their part, but the years had spilt through the cracks of her mask and left her heart and adolescence behind.

Princess Jade insisted on her youth, however, pointing out the lack of crinkling skin next to her eyes, the smoothness where smiling lines creased around an older nose. Yet physical ageing meant nothing to her now, not with no one to look pretty for. But she was still Grandad’s little girl, and he indulged her every voiced whim. She found herself smiling and having to watch her words so sweets wouldn’t pile up on the kitchen counter and she’d have to eat them to avoid his pouting face.

She couldn’t really bring herself to thank Yggdrasil for taking Junie away from her, but Gemma could certainly thank Her for his friends and her grandad. Without them, she would have broken that fateful day, and no one could have pieced her back together.

When the glue was dry…

_She might fall in love again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psych!  
> Okay, look, I changed my mind as to the chapter order last minute. At least it means the next (and last) chapter should come out before New Years since most of it is already written.  
> I wasn’t sure whether to make Gemma twenty-two or twenty-three. I decided to say that Acts I & II took over a year (I was tempted to make it two since they travelled around the world several times), and it’s been over five years since Junie went back in time.  
> Merry Christmas, all!
> 
> Next instalment: Gemma sings for adventure in the great wide somewhere and gets it.


	5. Adventure Awaits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gemma sings for adventure in the great wide somewhere and gets it.

They began with Heliodor.

Taking Junichi’s trusty steed and her grandfather’s docile mare, they set off to travel the world. Gemma’s wide-eyed gaze was telling that she had never really left the safety of Cobblestone – the presence of monsters usually dissuaded ordinary folk. She took in the sprawling fields, the rolling green hills, the waterfall streaming endlessly onto solid rock. It was one thing to glimpse the world from atop the Tor – albeit a magnificent sight it was – and another to experience things up close.

“You’ll catch flies,” her husband teased. She shut her mouth at once and shot him a glare. He laughed, the little monger.

It was an easy trip to the first city: aggressive creatures were scarce and the majority did not bother them, presumably far too intimidated by the Luminary’s presence. He didn’t seem to exude a frightening aura or anything…

In any case, they arrived at the capital in good time. She was agape once more.

“The buildings are so high… Is that a market? Oh, Junie, let’s go! Maybe we can find something nice for Princess Jade if they’ll grant us an audience…”

Yes, Gemma had a lovely stay in Heliodor. They were welcomed at the castle and treated to a most exquisite banquet comparable to the previous one she’d had there. She’d tried to mind her manners, being in the company of the king himself, his daughter, and the royal court, despite Junie’s assurances that she needn’t worry. As it turned out, he was right.

“Visit us again when you’ve finished your gallivanting,” Princess Jade insisted. Sir Hendrik looked distinctly uncomfortable with her colloquial language ( _how unbefitting of the crown princess_ , she heard, though he did not speak). “I want to hear everything.”

Off they went again, exiting to the southwest foothills from Heliodor’s downtown, where life was improving gradually thanks to their benevolent King Carnelian’s liberation from Mordegon’s possession. The couple passed through the Manglegrove; the monsters there were more hostile but were dispatched all too quickly. Climbing Angri-La was difficult yet rewarding, and the High Lama received them with the utmost deference. She reeled when she was introduced; from what she had gathered from Junie’s stories, she was not at all prepared to meet a young boy. He had neglected to mention that ‘minor’ point. It took her perhaps a day or so of observing the temple dynamics for her astonishment to become respect. It was there that Gemma began to comprehend just how many lives her husband had touched. He hadn’t simply saved Erdrea; he had cared for people, had involved himself in their personal issues, had won their hearts over when the world thought he was the Darkspawn.

Gemma wrestled with this newfound understanding as they travelled further west. Many nights were spent attending to his stories under the light of the moon. She was more than happy to listen, for she wanted to hear all about what he had been up to and what kind of people he had made friends with.

She was still astounded when Monsieur le Principal Maxime Médaillé greeted Junie with surpassing warmth. L’Académie de Notre Maître des Médailles was renowned as an exclusive all-girls school. Even Gemma had heard of it from under the rock known (or, rather, as unknown) as her hometown. And there the principal was, talking enthusiastically with her husband – apparently an honorary member, somehow – about obscure mini medals and an unmatched album.

Needless to say, she was somewhat unsettled from that encounter and was relieved to sojourn in Phnom Nonh.

“These paper lanterns are so quaint!” she exclaimed, examining the minute details. It was evening; Junie had left to secure accommodation with the innkeeper, who supposedly owed him a favour, and he had promised to return to her side with haste. With that consolation, the blonde stayed put and entertained herself by exploring what the marketplace stands had to offer.

Curious murals peppered the booths, featuring an orange-haired woman seated upon a throne. When she inquired of a shopkeeper, he spun a wild tale of cursed paintings, stirring recollections of a certain campfire story. The ruins of Nhou Wat, which they planned to visit come morning.

Thus prepared, she looked upon a blank mural.

“I told you she was gone,” Junie verbalised, a little puzzled as to why she had been so excited.

She blinked. “I forgot.”

The villagers’ tourist magnetism must have gotten to her.

* * *

“So, this is the ocean,” breathed Gemma.

A body of water so large she could not see where it ended. It was a little cloudy the day they reached Puerto Valor – the salted wind whispered of precipitation and release – but the view was no less exhilarating. Not that she had had experience with the sea before.

“Beautiful, isn’t it, darling?”

She turned to see Sylvando, son of the famed Don Rodrigo. When she had first seen the two side by side, she had been unable to note any resemblance. Now that she had more time to fathom their relationship, she saw it in their dark, handsome features, their keen wits, their honed reflexes. And, most of all, in the twinkle of their grey eyes. Despite their exterior selves, Gemma saw the ardour of knighthood, the intense desire to spread joy and peace.

“I never tire of this,” continued Sylvando. “It is my home, after all – as much a home I could have, since a circus performer ought to be nomadic.”

“Don’t say that,” Gemma chided. When he looked at her fully, she elaborated, “Your father is here. I’ve only known him for a few hours, but he wants to spend time with you. I think he would like nothing better than to hear you call this place home.”

He was silent but she knew what he was thinking. After all, no one was quieter than her husband.

“If you have memories of happy times tied to this place… memories of home and of a compassionate father who only wanted your wellbeing, thought of your future – don’t let it go.”

She couldn’t imagine how Junie had left behind his friends in the previous timeline to fix everything that had gone wrong. No one except her would remember his sacrifice. That night, as she lay beside him, Gemma invited his reflections.

“Do you… ever regret leaving them?”

He nodded slowly, eyes shining. “Yes. Sometimes. We went through so much together. Things that these have never seen, and never will. The carnage wrought by Mordegon’s followers, the sorrow following Veronica’s passing… and the tenacity of humanity, fighting to keep hope alive. To spread the beauty of life in the face of calamity.”

His lyricism astounded her. His hands held immeasurable depths of grief and yearning, having seen desolation she could not imagine, but his eyes were afire. When he had left Cobblestone that day, she hadn’t thought he would change so much. Oh, he was still that responsive, soft-spoken young man she had grown up with, yet now so many facets came to light. She didn’t hate it; rather, she was startled to realise this on occasions such as these. Nonetheless she welcomed the opportunity to discover him anew.

“But I don’t think I could take back my decision.”

Gemma lost herself in those blue irises. “Why’s that?” she murmured.

A hand reached out to stroke her hair. “It was worth it. A thousand times over, it was worth it.” He drew her close.

After that, Gemma perceived a new tone in their relationship. It was… more sensitive, somehow, yet more mature. Edged with the understanding of a darker time that could never be returned to and the trust that came with a deeper friendship.

They sailed north to Sniflheim. They found Erik quickly; Junie had to defuse the dispute that arose in the middle of the metropolis, which just so happened to involve the blue-haired man and was attracting widespread attention.

“How did I know you’d be at the centre of trouble?” her husband laughed.

Erik grinned and slapped his partner’s back. “I’m so good-looking, all the other guys are just jealous.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. Girls were turning their heads to gaze dreamily at his perfect spikes and his easy smile. If a man was accompanying her, he glared instead. Gemma stifled a giggle.

“And look! Junichi’s wifey, coming out to see little old me!” He stepped up to her with a broad smile. “I don’t know you all that well, but he has, all his life, and I trust him with mine.”

Her eyebrows raised in slight surprise at his sudden gravitas.

“And that means I’d better trust you with my life, too.”

… Yes, this was an interesting character. She was beginning to glimpse the depths of Junie’s friendship with all his companions, especially with this one.

“I hope I can live up to that,” she voiced. “In the meantime, tell me about your questing! It would be great to get to know you outside of my wedding and you saving the world and all.”

He swept a mock bow. “It would be my honour.”

And on they went, Erik interspersing her tour with anecdotes, some sweet, some comical. Junie interjected every so often to correct his wilder claims.

A short figure advanced with a recognisable smirk, her hair a turquoise she was acquainted with. Gemma paused, mouth open, and her head swivelled between the two.

Erik flicked a hand up. “Yo!”

The girl scoffed and crossed her arms. Gemma ogled at their likeness. Too old to be a daughter, too young to be his mother or aunt – surely…

“I didn’t know you’ve got a sister,” she remarked. He chuckled and rubbed his head.

“Ah yeah, I guess I never mentioned it,” he laughed. “Here, this is my little sis, Mia. Mia, Gemma.”

“Heya,” she said.

Mia was about as mischievous as her brother. She had her own host of tales to offer. They would pass by a stall and she’d quip about their wares and of their value on the black market.

“Keep your voice down!” reproved Erik, his tone half-stern, half-riant.

* * *

They had been in the country for a week or so and Gemma was antsy. The arctic climate was getting to her and it was a relief to leave. It was quite different from her life in the mountainous terrain of Cobblestone, and she was looking forward to Arboria’s similar landscape.

“We’re off,” Junie reassured her. “Sorry it took so long, since Queen Frysabel wanted an audience.”

“Couldn’t have denied a request from Her Royal Majesty.” She exhaled. He quirked a brow at her.

“Is that sarcasm I detect? Show some respect for the queen!” he teased. She grinned.

They had waved goodbye to Erik and Mia at the city’s perimeter, and the deep snow was beginning to lift. She could finally see patches of colour besides white; hardy grasses sprang up more and more often. She was going to have to shed a few layers soon – not too many, though, given the dropping temperature as they gained altitude.

She glimpsed a green too bright to belong to nature and wondered at its origin. At her side, Junie perked up, and she presumed it to be someone he knew. One of his former comrades, maybe?

They continued to hike. She managed her breathing almost unconsciously, accustomed to the thin air of mountain ranges. Finding a small plateau dotted with flowers and overlooking the dense forest below, they spread out a mat and munched on the sandwiches she had prepared that morning.

Rustling in the bushes alerted her to someone’s presence. She stopped and tensed. Junie stood, hand on the hilt of his sword.

The same hue of green as before emerged from the vegetation. Closer now, she could make out the patterned fabric, simple and refined. She looked up: a familiar face framed by blonde locks.

“Serena!” Junie called, thrilled. He dropped his guard, grinning widely.

“It’s good to see you,” she returned, brushing a crinkly leaf off her skirt. “Want me to come with you back to Arboria?”

He nodded eagerly. “It’ll be just like old times.”

His wife got up as well to greet her. “It’s nice to run into you again.”

Serena smiled in reply. “Gemma! You look as though you’ve settled well into life with Junie.”

She blushed. “Well… we’re still in the early years… long way to go…” Oh, Yggdrasil, she was stammering. Junie beamed and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder while Serena chortled.

“Say no more! I understand.”

They packed up their lunch site and began to walk again, exchanging pleasantries and news from friends they had made on their expeditions.

“Michelle’s doing well,” her husband informed. “She and Kai seem to have made fast friends.”

The twin’s mouth rounded in mild surprise. “Think the wariness towards the mermaids will dissipate?”

“Give them time. I want to believe it’s possible.”

“So do I…”

Their chattering whiled away the time and monsters were disposed of much more quickly than before with two expert combatants on the job. Before Gemma knew it, the glimmering white steps leading to Serena’s town came into view. A short blonde stood atop them, hands on hips.

“Sister!” Serena exclaimed, elated. “You came to welcome me home?”

“You’re late!” she yelled. Her twin’s expression became sheepish.

“Ah… I may have lost track of time?”

The petite woman slapped her forehead. “Of course you did. My airheaded little sister…”

Gemma’s eyebrow creased. “Wait. _Little?_ ”

“Yes. I’m the _older_ one!” Veronica glared.

* * *

The First Forest was everything she’d imagined it to be. Lush shrubs peppered the landscape and verdant vines stretched along the cliffs. Trees thicker than the ones in the Manglegrove were everywhere. Greens and browns and yellows covered the hilltop, juxtaposed against the pure white of the altar. And the great Yggdrasil overshadowed it all.

Below the countless sprigs, Gemma’s eyes closed, hands pressed against her breast.

_Thank you._

A leaf fell. Its time had come.

As it dissolved into aureate light, Gemma reflected on when hers would descend, and hoped it would be a peaceful end: surrounded by her loved ones, understanding her life to be blessed.

Beside her, Junie produced an elaborate flute out of nowhere and began to play. She stared at its gilded profile; its dulcet timbre lulled her senses.

A song rang out above and, agog, she craned her neck to see a huge whale cruising in the skies. Junie held a hand out to her and she took it wordlessly. He led her up a sleek wing, grip tightening when she stumbled once.

“This is Cetacea. Isn’t she pretty?”

“Yeah,” Gemma breathed. Gold adorned her back in an intricate design. “She’s gorgeous.”

She spent the whole flight speechless. A cerulean lake shone as they passed it. She could see even the rubescent glow of Hotto’s volcano. All too soon, Cetacea moved to land before a towering structure. It was quiet and scenic.

“This is the Tower of Lost Time,” Junie told her. She peered up at it.

“I guess it fits the bill,” she pondered. So this was the place from which he travelled back to this time to change the world’s destiny. “It’s ancient and grand and everything.” He threw back his head, laughing.

She got another lift on Cetacea to Hotto, to her abundant joy. The kingdom of Gallopolis proved a contrasting ordeal from Sniflheim’s wintry environment. Suffice to say, she had a harder time dealing with it because of her inexperience with searing heat. However, she was pleased to splash in the cool waters of Gondolia and lie in the blooming fields of Zwaardrust.

For a city that was in ruins not six years past, Dundrasil sure was lively. Shopkeepers parsed their wares boisterously under an azure sky.

A cemetery had formed around the graves of Junie’s parents. Fresh flowers swayed in the zephyr before the tombstones, scrubbed clean; both features indicated a recent visit.

“Must have been my grandpa,” her husband conjectured.

“Could have been one of the citizens,” Gemma countered. “You did say your grandpa said they were well-loved.”

“That was a bit roundabout,” he mentioned lightly. She grinned awkwardly. “But yeah, I did. Maybe you’re right!”

The two of them spent many minutes there, long enough that her legs began to protest with the tingle of pins and needles. As if her discomfort was his own, he glanced at her and rose. “Let’s pick up some dinner.”

The sun had set but its light had not yet faded from the earth. They sampled street foods in the dusk – fish balls slathered in opaque sauce and skewered offal. She didn’t relish everything but was determined to at least try it all. Maybe she could take some techniques back home if she could figure them out.

“Excuse me, lassie,” an elderly voice spoke next to her. She shifted left to make room and looked down. Her eyebrows soared.

“You’re…”

A finger rested on their lips, silencing her.

“Gem, you’ve got to try this out!” Junie was turning toward her. “It’s so…”

He halted. “Grandpa!”

“I’m happy to see ye in the place of yer birth, my boy,” he answered. “I hope you like how we’ve restored the place.”

“Everything looks amazing! Is this what it was like back in the day?”

“Perhaps even better now!” His pride was palpable. “Have you dropped by Octagonia yet?”

“We have, Grandpa Rab,” Gemma chimed in. “We didn’t check out the casino thoroughly, though; I’m not really a fan of that kinda thing. And Junie said he spent too much time and coin when he was last there.”

“Shame,” he commented. “They’ve done up the locale nicely.”

“Vince is doing a fine job of sprucing it up. And the orphanage looks great!” Junie agreed.

She smiled at the memory. The children had looked well-fed and cared for, and so ecstatic upon the arrival of their doting hero.

Grandpa Rab was delighted to show them about the capital, but it was getting late and he insisted on having them stay at the castle. She was astounded at the silky gowns in the wardrobe, the violaceous curtains, the rich scarlet carpets into which her feet sank.

A week passed in rare luxury and, at last, it was time to begin the trek home. King Rab extracted a commitment from his grandson to call on him more frequently. Cetacea flew the two on a last, glorious journey to Heliodor, since they had told Jade they would return to the castle once finished with their adventure. Junie was unable to convince her to part from the majestic mount without promising future rides. Gemma was beyond satisfied, and told her husband as such.

Erdrea really was a fantastic place to be.

* * *

“Cobblestone Falls is just so lovely,” Gemma observed. “Even after all the places we’ve seen, nowhere else compares. And it’s the spot where your Grandpa Chalky found you.”

“Ah!”

Her head pivoted and she stood up quickly. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry!” her husband responded hastily. “Sit down; you need to conserve your energy.”

“I’m fine,” she pouted, pretending to be disgruntled, but sat back down. She rubbed her belly soothingly.

“I just remembered – I never took you to see the Watchers.”

“The Watchers?”

“They’re curious beings who, uh… watch over us from floating islands.”

“Floating… islands? That’s kinda hard to believe.” Her mouth made a moue. “Still, I suppose it isn’t impossible. Yggdrasil defies gravity.”

Junie assured her, “I’ll take you one day.”

“Before the baby comes, please,” she asked. “Then I’ve got enough exploration to last a lifetime. We’ll be recounting our exploits to our children and grandchildren, and maybe their kids, too!”

He smiled, and that was all the adventure she could wish for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s that for my first ever completed multi-chapter fic!   
> This was half-done when assignments hit like a truck, as well as Xenotober and a number of other RL commitments. And then, I decided to switch the chapter order.
> 
> You might notice that I changed the description slightly. I originally touted this as a 'collection of one-shots'. But, as it grew, I found that it had become a trio of individual stories running parallel, yet forming a cohesive whole, somewhat like a braid. I wanted to contrast sorrows and joys and found more similarities than I thought.
> 
> Thank you all for putting up with my slow updates and accompanying me on this journey. Have an amazing New Year!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on Ao3. It would mean a lot to me if you could take the time to leave a review :)


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